


The Cat's Meow

by CathexisArcana



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Transformation, Erotica, F/M, Furry, Humor, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Magic, Other, POV First Person, Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 09:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathexisArcana/pseuds/CathexisArcana
Summary: On a lonely weekend, Sydney finds herself at a novelty shop and ends up taking home an elixir to use on her cat -- which she supposes is some kind of fancy catnip. To her surprise, it transforms her cat into a form that not only makes her want to pet him all over, but gives him the ability to pet her back, and then some.





	The Cat's Meow

I hate weekends. 

It’s like everyone in the universe has the most glamorous or exciting shit in the world to do on Friday night. Everyone, that is, except me. Then again, on the rare occasions I do get invited to parties with my girl friends or on a date with some low-aiming guy, suddenly I find that I have urgent business at home for, you know,  the  _ entire _ evening. 

Ok, maybe I’m just a classic misanthrope, but I’ve always been like that, and at nineteen, I feel like my neurotic ways have pretty much petrified in the grooves of my brain. I feel smothered and panicky in a big crowd, and even at small gatherings I feel like there is a huge, sweat-inducing spotlight on me, illuminating all of my awkward facial expressions and the fact that I can’t keep my arms from alternating between being crossed or locked tightly behind my back. 

Maybe if I felt more comfortable in my own skin, it would be different. I’m not skinny, far from it. Guys say I’m “cute and curvy” but it always sounds like a fetish genre, so I don’t know how to take that. I’m 5’4” and 150 pounds, so you figure it out. In any case, I’ve always been insecure about the way I look (how original, right?) and I just can’t stop thinking about it when I’m with more than one or two other people. 

Do I seem keyed up? Sorry, but I actually cancelled a date this weekend that I was supposed to go on with this pretty cute guy who had asked me out at work. The reason? The whole thing just made me feel anxious and ancy (not in a good way), to the point where I ended up texting him what amounted to “thanks, but no thanks”. That makes the fourth decent opportunity I’ve sabotaged this year. Go me.

Okay, enough of my first world problems. My friend Janice gave me a flyer for a new store opening today in the old part of downtown. Of course, she wasn’t coming because she had “big plans” tonight. 

The store is called Lady Mandelay’s Magic Emporium. I know, it sounds kinda witchy in a too-much-incense kind of way, but I love places like that, even if I almost never buy anything. 

I got off work a few minutes earlier at the grocery store, and, since it’s a pretty short walk to downtown from there, I decided to save myself some gas and get a little exercise. It’s fall, my favorite time of year, probably because it means I can stop feeling conspicuous about not wearing summery colors and tank tops and shorts and all of that stuff I wish I could wear, but feel gross in. It’s cool enough now to wear jeans and my old denim jacket, and that makes me ridiculously happy. 

Most of the stores were closed in the old part of downtown, ones that used to deal in hardware, fabric, video rentals, all of that stuff that big chain stores and the internet have swept away. It was kind of depressing, actually. Heaps and skirls of dry red and brown leaves blew around the sidewalk in front of these places that I remembered being lively and interesting when I was a kid, but now it all feels abandoned and melancholy, like a fucking Tumblr filter in real life. 

I spotted Lady Mandelay’s at the end of the street. It was in one of the pre-antebellum houses, one of the few left in town. I remember a reclusive woman always living there, and I seemed to recall some minor controversy because she wouldn’t let the historic society put up one of their commemorative plaques to tell visitors about the place. Now there was a sign, but it was wooden, hand-painted sign that said “Lady Mandelay’s Magic Emporium” in impressively ornate lettering. 

It was a beautiful sign. Whoever made it could probably sustain a business using that skill alone. 

There was no neon “open” sign in the window, but I could see warm orange light illuminating the inside, either from candles or a fireplace., which gave me hope that someone was attending the place. Little dolls of spirits and monsters hung in the windows, along with costume pieces and other Halloween-esque decorations, but all of it with an unusually authentic look. It wasn’t the kind of shit you would find at Spencer’s. 

With some trepidation, I opened the heavy wooden door, and of course it creaked loudly, with visitor chimes tinkling the whole way. I stepped in and closed the door, taking in the scent of the place first. It was like the smell of an ancient dusty attic, but with the aroma of herbs and spices and incense mingled into it. I was surprised by the amount of items crammed into every nook and cranny of the place. There were chalices, crystal balls, die sets, handmade chess boards with fantastic, horrific, and even sexual themes, thick leather-bound tomes with ornate locks and filigree, signet rings and old stationery, wooden boxes brimming with jewelry and trinkets, perfumes and oils, masks, black candles, and much more. 

Oddly, none of it had price tags or stickers. 

I didn’t see anyone yet, so I just browsed leisurely along the narrow corridors of displays and tables, marveling at the wealth of esoteric items available. Such an inventory must have cost a fortune, or was perhaps the outcome of some extremely shrewd estate auction bidding. 

I heard the soft padding of footsteps, and turned to see an elderly woman, with white snowy hair and a kindly face, standing near me. She was wearing a cream-colored gown with a hemp cord tied around her waist, and on her left wrist was a simple copper cuff with a green gem. 

She startled me slightly, but I didn’t think she noticed. 

“Good evening,” I said. “Are you still open?”

The woman smiled, almost reproachfully. “Oh yes, I’m always open.”

“Oh, good.”

“What is it that you need, miss?”

I shrugged. “I’m just browsing really, thanks.”

“Everyone needs something when they come here,” she said matter of factly. “And I always have something for them. So, what is it? Do you want professional success? Money? Beauty? Weight-loss?” The last one, I was annoyed to see, she winked as she mentioned it. “Love, maybe? That’s a classic -- well, that and money, and looks, and fame. Well, I guess I named all the usual things.”

I laughed lightly. “I don’t know. I get lonely sometimes, but I don’t like to be around people.”

She nodded sagely. “I know the feeling. You like animals, do you?”

“I have a pet cat. His name is Nimrod. He’s pretty good company, I guess.”

The little woman’s eyes narrowed and crinkled with amusement. “Perfect.” She then walked with a slightly waddling gait to a table covered in bottles of oils and perfumes and god knows what else. She searched for a moment, then plucked a bottle from the midst of the others, smiling. “I have just the thing. Have Mr. Nimrod drink this elixir, here, and you’ll be set for the evening. Oh,don’t worry, it’s quite safe, and organic.”

“It won’t make him hyper, will it? What does it do?”

“It’s not a decoction of catnip, I assure you.  What it does, my dear,  is make your pet quite a stretch more--shall we say--  _ companionable  _ than to what you are likely accustomed.”

It sounded like snake oil to me, but I didn’t want to be rude. “That sounds interesting,” I murmured. “How much is it?”

“Fifteen, ordinarily, but you can just have this one, since I detect you’re a tad bit trepidatious to try it. If you, and Mr. Nimrod of course, are satisfied, you can always buy the next vial.”

“Wow, thank you. There’s nothing I like more than free samples,” I replied.

No, really, it’s true. 

The lady smiled enigmatically, but said nothing else. I put the vial in my purse, then perused long enough to not seem like I was rushing out of the place, then I left after thanking the woman again for the sample.

On the way home, I thought about whether or not I would give Nimrod the elixir. I dug it out of my purse and unfixed the tiny cork to sniff it, and detected tones of fennel and vanilla. I suspected it might be caffeinated or contain vitamins that might give typical kinds of pets a slight mood boost, but I couldn’t imagine it would be dramatic enough to want to spend fifteen bucks for more of it. 

I parked in front of my tiny, outdated house, which was rented to me by a precious elderly couple who had lived in it for thirty years, but had since built a new, rather large modern house on the rural side of the county. Once inside the door, Nimrod managed to appear near me before I realized it, purring and circling my leg. 

“You sensed I brought you a present didn’t you, sweetie?”

I got Nimrod from an animal shelter about six months ago. He was one and a half years old, charcoal colored with lake-green eyes. There was a relaxed, chill quality about Nimrod that I liked. He wasn’t frenetic or moody and he didn’t try to eat my computer cords or claw my futon to pieces. For a cat, he seemed to be at peace with his life and surroundings, and I considered him to be the best little animal friend I had ever had. 

He purred at me quietly as I put my mail and purse on the kitchen counter, but he took care not to trip me up. I usually fed him as soon as I came home, so he circled around me, waiting. I opened a can of soft food, stirred in the elixir, and, after a moment’s hesitation, set it down on the floor for him. 

Though it was only seven, the dark clouds outside, and my black-out curtains,  made it feel like night time. I had a habit of falling asleep early during fall, anyway,  so I went ahead and ate a bowl of chicken soup while watching TV, then planned to shower and retire to my bed to read until I nodded off. 

On the way to the bathroom, I stopped to watch Nimrod as napped in in the dining room, which I practically never used. It was a bit out of character for him, since he usually huddled near me on the couch, and it made me worry that the elixir was going to make him sick or interfere with his sleep routine. 

I put the worry from my mind as I undressed in the bathroom, with the hot water running behind me, with steam drifting up behind the clear plastic curtain. I studied myself in the fogging mirror. I saw a cute, plump girl with a blonde ponytail. I was fortunate enough to have a smooth, unblemished skin, but I had a chubby belly with a big navel, with no hint of ab lines. My breasts were not very big, despite my plump frame, and they weren’t as perky as I wished they were. I did, however, like my legs and arms, strangely enough, which were thick but had a good shape to them, like I exercised a lot more than actually did. 

I also realized I hadn’t shaved my, ahem, feminine area in a few weeks. 

“What’s the point?” I muttered. 

My shower was luxurious and relaxing, and it made me glad I was at home, about to snuggle up to read, instead of still being out at a restaurant or the movie theater with Blake, feeling tense and awkward and looking forward to coming home. 

I dried myself, threw on a plain -shirt and my vintage Star Wars pajamas, went around to the front and rear doors of the house to make sure they were locked, then headed to my bedroom. 

 

I  _ screamed _ . 

There was someone, or something, on my bed, leisurely lying on its side like it was imitating a pose in a magazine or movie. 

I backed up toward the door, still staring at the thing, my brain reeling and churning to process what I was seeing and make some kind of determination. 

“Please, Mistress Sydney,” he said, in a soothing, masculine voice, which had just a touch of a Spanish accent to it. “It is I, Nimrod.”

I stared, probably with a look of insane confusion plastered over my face. 

As I continued to look,  the fragments of my mind started coming back together, like puzzle pieces fitting into place, and the hammering in my chest began to slow, letting me breathe easier. 

The creature was about five feet tall, or long, as he was lying down, covered in very short charcoal fur, exactly like my Nimrod’s. He had long hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail. His eyes, too, were that familiar calm lake-green. His face was unmistakably feline, but human enough to be quite attractive to my primate sensibilities. He even had lips beneath that little triangle nose. He was really quite handsome in a fantastical sort of way.  If his face weren’t intriguing enough, his body was thrillingly humanoid, as well, with well-shaped arms and legs like a man’s, and his torso was contoured with muscle, and he had abs. 

Jesus Christ! Nimrod had  _ abs _ , now. 

Altogether, he gave the impression of being an anthropomorphic cat, employed as an underwear model. 

In my bed.

He was, in fact, wearing a pair of my pink boy shorts, and he had a  _ bulge  _ exactly in the right place, which was really fucking freaky, but kind of exciting. 

“Did you enjoy your food?” I asked lamely. 

“It tasted a bit like your coffee smells, actually,” he said, in that wonderfully sonorous voice. “But it was pleasant, thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You, ah, seem to have changed a bit since I stepped into the shower.” I was chagrined to hear my voice quavering slightly. 

He looked down at himself. “Have I? I have the impression of being exactly as I have always been.”

I smiled weakly. “Oh, ok.”

“You are standing rather far away.”

I was still in the doorway, almost pressed against the trimming. With some effort, I made myself walk closer to him, my bare feet creaking on the hardwood floor. 

“What is troubling you, mistress?” He asked. 

“I had a long day, is all. Work, you know…”

He made a pitying face. “They don’t deserve you, those cads. I really wish you would seek a post with more worthy employers. Might I suggest the U.S. post office?”

I sighed, still settling into this weird situation. “Sure, why not?”

Nimrod moved over and patted the bed near him. He smiled, showing a familiar row of sharp little teeth. “Have a seat, mistress.You know I only nibble, never bite.”

Jesus…

I had a strange, tantalizing notion of where this night was headed. It was a dizzying, surreal scenario to consider, but, as anyone who has partied a little too hearty in their past knows, the key to a memorable experience is to throw caution to the wind like it was a bomb with a short fuse. 

I sat down on the bed, very aware of the fact I was wearing neither a bra nor panties. I felt my nipples hardening and wondered if my shirt had “pokies”, now.  I would have glanced down, but I knew his gaze would follow mine.

Nimrod sat up, brushed at my arm in a habitual way, pressing his short-fingered, paw-like hands on me as he did in his ordinary form.  

It felt nice. 

“I want to please you, mistress,” purred he. 

I laughed, but it came out as a weird cough. “Oh, really?”

He smiled. “Don’t be nervous. You have not had a mate in the whole time I have been yours, since you took me from that drab little building across town, where I was thrown with the degenerates and the unfortunates of my kind.”

You may be surprised, but I am not a virgin; a couple of times removed, in fact. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared shitless about having a fling with my magically sexified cat. Still, I must have been reckless with delirium, because I wasn’t scared enough  _ not  _ to do it. 

“You’re cold,” he observed, and with a clawed finger he grazed one of my hard nipples through my shirt, making me start a little and pull away.  It stung, but it felt good. 

I smiled. “You know what that means?”

“I have seen you naked in winter quite enough times to, how how do you say, connect the dots?”

I felt my cheeks redden fiercely. “Right.” 

He had also seen me pleasure myself with a certain silver bullet, more than likely, which made me blush even hotter just thinking about it. 

“It’s only fair,” he went on. “After all, you have always kept me ungarbed, not to mention the fact I must conduct my toiletries without privacy.” 

There was, I noticed, a touch of resentment in his tone. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m sorry, Nimrod. Humans can be very thoughtless, I suppose.”

“You will make it up to me,” he said with complete certainty. 

I made a wry face. “I hope you don’t want to watch me use the bathroom.”

Now, it was his turn to laugh, and it was a deep, purring laugh that I found rather attractive. “No, no, nothing so deviant, I’m afraid.”

As if to illustrate his intentions, he leaned in to kiss me. It was just a peck, but he followed it by moving his mouth to my neck, nibbling lightly with his small, sharp teeth, feline and yet masculine. It gave me shivers, and I started to forget about the surreal quality of the situation, and just accepted the present experience for what it was. 

Nimrod bade me to raise my arms, and he deftly took off my shirt, letting my breasts fall with a light bounce. Again he nibbled at my neck, then down to my nipples, which felt so hard they were pulling the skin from around them. He bit hard enough to hurt, but light enough to feel exactly what I wanted it to feel like. I put my hands in his silky hair, pulled back and tied with a piece of ribbon, like a gentleman’s style from another era. 

His hand rested on my soft, rounded stomach, rolled somewhat from the way I was sitting on the bed. It should have embarrassed me. I would have pulled away ordinarily, but with him, for some reason I didn’t care. Perhaps it was because we truly had seen each other in all manner of compromising circumstances, and it never mattered before. 

We were who we were. 

I decided my pajamas needed to go. 

Unabashedly, I pulled them down, and Nimrod finished removing them when they got tangled over my feet. I wish I had been “in style” below the belt, but I had a feeling that the look would not phase my feline beau in the slightest. 

I leaned back against my bulky reading pillow, one leg braced on the floor, the other spread slightly on the bed. Nimrod moved between them, one hand on each, and before I could prepare myself, I felt his tongue, rough and wet, slide over my lips. I shuddered, knowing it had been too fucking long since I felt this. 

Suddenly, staying home on the weekend didn’t seem so depressing. 

Bizarre, perhaps, but not depressing. 

He was insistent, lapping quietly and firmly, until I wasn’t sure if all the wetness was from his tongue or if it was coming out of me. Soon, I knew I was ready to go. I felt the sensation rising, a wave of hot tingles welling up and cresting--

And he stopped. 

“No, keep going,” I painted. 

“It’s not time,” said he with a wink. 

I shook my head. “No, It really is.”

“Patience,” he admonished. 

I fought the urge to swat at him, the way I sometimes would on the rare occasions he did something bad. 

Now, I could only plead with what I hoped was a pitiable expression. 

After he did not respond, I threw my head back and huffed loudly. 

Without warning, he began licking me again, fast and hard, and the texture of his tongue was almost too much to bear on my aching clit.  

But bear it I did, until I felt the wave of pleasure break, and I rode it all the way down, until it felt as though it spread out across a beach of calm satisfaction, warm and wet. 

Or, you know, whatever. 

“Wow,” I said, stretching, pressing my palms down the top of my thighs, and with my upper arms pushing my tits together. 

Nimrod purred. 

I blinked the stars from eyes. He was looking at me expectedly, laying back on his elbows, the muscles of his chest and stomach catching the light. The shape of his bulge in my own boy shorts was more noticeable, now. 

I knew what he wanted, but I was nervous. It was easier to talk me into  _ receiving  _ pleasure than giving it, but not because I was lazy. Putting me in the driver seat just made me nervous. I don’t know. I guess it was the pressure to  _ deliver _ that made me feel awkward. 

Oh, what the hell. 

I put my hand on his bulge, rubbed it carefully. His eyes closed halfway, and he purred in approval. After a moment, I took the sides of the boyshorts and slipped them down, not quite looking at what was freed. I kissed his nose, letting my finger drift down his chest, over his tummy, but lifting it before it touched what he wanted it to. Impatiently, he bit at my ear, playfully but with enough nip to let me know he meant business. 

“Easy, tiger,” I said. 

I put my hand on the inside of his thigh, moving it up toward his cute little balls. They were hairless, and above them his cock was hardening and standing almost fully erect. It was, I was relieved to find, very much like a human’s, smooth and with a nicely shaped head. It wasn’t very big, but it looked  _ very _ nice and it was at least the same size as my silver bullet vibrator. 

And, come on, I’m not a size queen, anyway. 

I moved my hand over his full package and massaged it, enjoying the look of creamy satisfaction on his handsome face. After a moment he was fully hard, and I moved my hand up and down his erection, squeezing it firmly so that he was nice and taught. I lowered my mouth close to it, letting my hot breath give him an idea of what was about to happen. 

His hips edged ever so slightly upwards, and I smiled at how bad he wanted it. 

I gave it to him. 

I sucked on his head like a lollipop and felt him jump a little, then slid my lips down his shaft, easily taking most of him in my mouth. It took less than a minute before I felt his hips rising again, and I knew he couldn’t last much longer. 

Abruptly I rose up, wiping my mouth with a grin. “Not so fast, sweetie.”

Nimrod  _ meowed _ in anguish. “You little devil!” he whispered fiercely. 

“Not so funny now, is it? I teased. 

To my surprise, he turned over onto his stomach, as much as he could, anyway, and sulked into his arms. 

At first, I thought he might be joking, but I heard him making a weird, keening sound of frustration. It reminded me so much of the times he was in a bad mood as a normal cat that I had to keep myself from giggling. 

I decided we have teased each other enough. 

I rolled him over so quickly and forcefully it must have scared him, since all of his short fur stood on ends briefly and he tried to raise up. Holding him down with one hand, I threw my leg over him and straddled his hips, and lowered myself onto his still hard cock. It felt good sliding into me, and my spine tingled as I pushed down and rocked my hips. 

Nimrod managed to sit up and licked my nipples, pressed his cheek against my breasts as I rode him. His hands claws into my back instinctively, and I knew there was blood, but I didn’t mind. I was practically bouncing on now, since his smallish size made it so the head of his cock was pressing against the most sensitive part of me with every motion. I reached behind me, under my ass, and grabbed his balls, very firmly but not enough to make him jump out of his fur. 

“Are you ready?” I panted in his ear, making it flick. 

I knew I was about to burst. The wave of bliss was back, and I imagined it as a huge wall of water rising up, higher and higher from the ocean against a huge, white full moon. 

He never answered, but I felt his claws clench tighter and his body tensed all over, as liquid warmth filled my pussy and I moaned with abandon, not knowing the cry was from the claws in by back or from the orgasm racking my body, bringing out goosebumps all over my skin. 

I fell off him and gave a delirious laugh, putting my hands over my face. 

“Oh, my god!” I said happily, rubbing at my suddenly heavy eyes. “That felt so amazing.” I felt his tongue licking my ear, and I giggled, moving my head away. “Please, don’t tell me you’re ready again. My lady-box needs to cool down for at least half an hour.”

I turned to look at Nimrod and my heart fell. 

He was sitting on the bed, prim and proper and grooming his fur; just a normal fucking cat, again, oblivious to my shock. 

“Damn it!” I cried, sitting up. I brought him into my arms and patted him, studying him for anything odd. It was though I had imagined the whole thing, but here I was, naked and trembling with the fatigue of  _ amazing  _ sex, and with warmth trickling from between my legs that definitely wasn’t all from my own body. 

It took me all of a three seconds to decide to return to Lady Mandelay’s Emporium the next day and buy as many of those potions as I could. Better yet, I would ask for something more  _ permanent. _

Before I knew It, I fell asleep with Nimrod next to me, hoping the whole thing hadn’t just been a crazy dream. If it was, that would mean I’ve had a pretty bad break with reality, and I also wouldn’t be getting anymore interspecies lovemaking. Yeah, I’ve never said that before, either. 

I awoke with a mild start, looked around for my feline paramore. He wasn’t in the room, so I padded sleepily down the hall and found him drinking water from his bowl, just as normal as you please.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to work this Saturday, so I dressed quickly and left the house, straight for Lady Mandelay’s. Heeding the speed limit, it took all of five minutes to arrive, and I practically jogged up the sidewalk to the front entrance, which, thank Jesus and Buddha, was open. Inside, I found the old woman carrying a box to the very table where she had retrieved my potion the previous day.

She glanced at me without stopping, and her eyes crinkled in amusement. “I was expecting you,” she told me. 

I laughed. “What a surprise. Say, I don’t suppose you have something a little more, ah, permanent?”

The lady chuckled and shook her wisened old head. “I wished the very same thing after my first time giving it to my poor sweet Lester, God rest his soul. He was just the most beautiful horse you had ever seen.”

My reply caught in my throat for an instant, and I nearly had to physically shake my head to remove the image. “Aw,” I managed. “So, I guess that’s a no.”

“Sadly, I don’t make the stuff, and the one who does only sells this one potion, which lasts about 6 hours at a time. It is not wise to request anything from  _ him  _ except what is offered, you understand.”

I had no fucking idea who she was dealing with to get this potion, but I didn’t blame her for having a somewhat fearful respect for her mysterious supplier. “Well, I guess I’ll have five of them, if you have that many.”

She lifted the box with a pleased noise. “Five it is. It will be a month before I get more, so pace yourself.” The last part she said with a knowing wink that made me blush a little. 

I paid her and returned home with barely contained anticipation. I didn’t want to change Nimrod back just to have sex again, although that was definitely on my list of things we were going to do. I really wanted to see if he would remember last night the way I did. 

I mixed a potion into his food again and waited for him to eat while I busied myself with laundry and dishes. Soon, I heard a weird, I don’t know,  _ fleshy  _ sound coming from the living room, and I darted in there to find Nimrod getting up from the floor, transformed back into my handsome lover. He was quite naked, and was smirking. 

“Mistress,” he greeted me smokily. 

I ran over to him and hugged him. I had to bend over a little since he was a good foot shorter than I am. “Hey you,” I said with affection. “How was last night? Do you remember?”

He purred and licked the back of his hand. “Indeed,” he said. “It was a glorious union of mistress and servant.”

I wasn’t so sure about the servant part, but I was glad he hadn’t lost our first real memory together; like,  _ together, _ together. 

“Perhaps I should find something to wear?” He suggested. 

Now that he was here again, and his cute little package was in view and just asking to be played with, I smiled mischievously and wagged a finger. “Not so fast, mister.”

Over the next few days, we made love almost incessantly, but we also talked, and he tried different human foods as we watched tv together, and I was  _ happy. _ Really happy. Of course, It was a little weird not to be able to go on a real date in public and everything, but that was a piddling detail compared to my contentment. 

But, as my shit-coated luck would have it, life threw me a curveball that I’m still not sure I can catch. 

After I ran out of potions, we had to wait to “see” each other again, so I bided my time catching up on things I had neglected when my man-cat was around. But one morning, about two weeks into our hiatus, I woke up nauseated, and the day after, and the day after….

I told Janice about it, and naturally she suggested I was pregnant, and wanted to know who the father was. I laughed it off in that moment, but as I drove home after work, I kept wondering. After all, the potion changed so much about Nimrod, what if it made us able to cross-breed? The thought made me even more queasy. 

So, I bought a pregnancy test. 

I went to the bathroom when I got home, then went through the tense moments of waiting after peeing on that damn thing, and then stared with bated breath to see what the indicator said. 

I felt faint. 

I walked from the bathroom in a daze, and Nimrod came up to me, circling my calf and purring. Slowly, I bent down and rubbed his head. 

“I hope you’re ready to be a father,” I murmured. 

He merely looked at me with those lake-green eyes and meowed, and I wondered if he understood. 

I guess I would ask him in a few weeks. 

  
  



End file.
